


Derek's Puppy

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha Derek Hale, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armpit Kink, Bathing/Washing, Body Hair, Body Worship, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Breeding, Come Sharing, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Felching, Fucking Machines, Knotting, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Puppy Play, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Spanking, Top Derek Hale, Urination, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 04:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13206453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: To everyone else, Stiles and Derek are a perfectly normal couple, one half going to college and the other working in construction. But what those people don’t know is that, behind closed doors, Stiles spends his evenings as Derek's puppy.





	Derek's Puppy

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, don't judge me for the depravity I have written...
> 
> Thank you to my beta [Tom_Webb](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tom_Webb) for correcting my mistakes.

Stiles sits at the kitchen table, his laptop open in front of him. He has been working on the same creative writing assignment for one of his college classes for the past three hours now and hasn't gotten anywhere at all. He feels frustrated, but that frustration doesn't last long because, just when the small clock in the top-right corner of his laptop screen ticks over to 18:00, he hears the front door open. Excited that Derek is back from his construction job, Stiles slams his laptop shut, stands up from his chair and runs to meet his mate at the front door.

"Hey!" he greets, grinning at Derek.

"Hey," Derek echoes, planting a kiss on Stiles' lips. "Do I smell dinner?"

"Yup, you're right on time!"

Leading Derek to the kitchen, Stiles turns off the oven and pulls out a huge glass dish of lasagna, Derek's favourite. "I know what a tough week you've been having, so I made this to cheer you up a bit," he explains, pushing his laptop aside and setting the food down on the round kitchen table.

Derek licks his lips. "God, I fucking love you…"

With a giggle, Stiles cuts a modest piece of lasagna for himself and then gives the rest to Derek as they sit down on opposite chairs. "So, how was your day?" he asks as Derek begins wolfing down his dinner in huge bites.

"A pain in the ass," the alpha answers. He details all the ways his indolent boss had pissed him off. He'd had to work even harder than usual because it came to light that, due to his boss's incompetence, the crew was somehow an entire week behind schedule and they had to spend the day playing catch-up.

Five minutes later, Derek finishes complaining at the same time he finishes his meal. After he swallows his last bite, he gives Stiles a heated look over the table, which Stiles is easily able to decipher. With a nod from the younger man, Derek gets up, puts the empty glass dish in the sink and then disappears from the room without another word. When he returns, it's with a devious smile on his face and something hidden behind his back. Stiles already knows what it is and stays perfectly still when Derek steps behind him, allowing the wolf to wrap around his neck the black leather collar that serves to dichotomise the two parts of his life—the human and the puppy.

As soon as the collar is fastened, Stiles feels a rush of endorphins course throughout his entire body. His mind, which is always running a mile a minute, instantly goes quiet, all the worries of his human life melting away to leave behind nothing but the simplistic need to obey and please Derek, his master. The transition is so smooth, so perfect, that Stiles can't believe he once went without it and felt content.

He hadn't known the meaning of the word.

Three years ago, when Stiles had graduated high school, he and Derek moved out of Beacon Hills and into a small apartment a stone's throw away from UC Berkeley, the college he would be attending in the fall. Once they were settled, his and Derek's already wild sex life only got more so. Stiles, in an afternoon of boredom, had gone online and compiled from the Internet a list of as many interesting-looking kinks as he could find, with the intention of he and Derek trying out every single one of them.

They blazed through this list with alacrity:

Bestiality, aided by Derek's wolf form? Check.

Bondage? Check.

Breath play? Check.

Breeding? Check.

Daddy kink? Check.

Dirty talk? Check.

Feminisation? Check.

Fisting? Check.

Objectification? Check.

Puppy play? Check.

Somnophilia? Check.

Spanking? Check.

Toys? Check.

Watersports? Check.

The only one they didn't enjoy much was exhibitionism. With how possessive and territorial a werewolf usually is with their mate, Derek didn't like the thought of anyone else seeing Stiles like that, even theoretically, and so after their one brief foray they never revisited it. But even so, with all the kinks they _did_ like, they get very, _very_ busy whenever they're home alone.

Because it had ended up being both of their favourites, puppy play is the kink they indulge in most often, with hints of others sprinkled in here and there. They're equals outside of the bedroom, but inside? Inside, Derek is in control. They don't do anything too extreme when it comes to the BDSM aspect of their sex life, but neither of them would have it any other way.

"You ready to play, pup?" Derek whispers in Stiles' ear.

With a shiver, the boy sinks to the floor and looks imploringly up at his master.

Derek chuckles fondly and ruffles Stiles' hair. "I'll take that as a yes. C'mon, bitch."

He walks through their apartment to the master bedroom and closes the door once Stiles has followed him inside. Setting his phone and watch on top of the dresser, he turns to find that his pup has already stripped naked and is kneeling patiently on the carpeted floor. "My bitch is eager tonight, huh? You want me to fuck you?" he asks, chuckling again when Stiles shakes his butt to mimic a dog wagging its tail. "Alright, I'm sure I can oblige. But first, present for me, pup! Let me see if you behaved while I was at work today."

Stiles shuffles around and lowers his top half to the floor, his ass sticking up in the air. Derek crouches down behind to him and parts his smooth cheeks, a grin forming on his face when he sees that the large black plug he'd slid inside Stiles' knot-ruined hole last night is still there, preventing any of his come from leaking out.

"Good," he says, delivering a playful slap to Stiles' ass as he stands again. "Now, let's get on with the show, shall we?"

Derek reaches for the hem of his tank top and peels the damp fabric from his hairy muscled torso. He throws it at Stiles' feet and feels his cock plump rapidly in his jeans when Stiles pounces on it instantly, sticking his nose right in the folds and soaking up the pungent musk of his master's sweat with great audible inhales. "Yeah, you like that, don't you, my filthy pup? With all the extra stuff I had to do today, I worked up quite the sweat. You've got your work cut out for you, but somehow I don't think that will be a problem."

Stiles meets Derek's eyes and barks once in confirmation.

"Good boy," Derek praises.

He fumbles with his belt buckle, slides the belt through the loops of his jeans and tosses it across the room. Then he toes off his socks and starts undoing his zipper, slowing the process down when he notices he has Stiles' attention. "Mmm, I've been looking forward to this all day. I can't wait to sink my cock into the tight, sloppy hole, to breed you full until you're all round and swollen, until it takes… That sound good to you, bitch?"

Another bark.

"But first, it's bath time," Derek says, pushing down his jeans and stepping out of them. His underwear swiftly follows, leaving his full hairy balls hanging low between his powerful thighs and his massive 9-inch cock sticking out straight and proud from the nest of unruly curls at the base. The head is hidden in the hood of his ample foreskin and pre-come already drips onto the carpet.

"I've got a treat for you if you behave," Derek tells his puppy. "Been saving up all day."

His bladder fit to burst, Derek walks over to the bed, pats the mattress to command Stiles to climb up, and then gives him a small scratch behind his ear when he obeys. He lies down right in the middle of the sheets and keeps his eyes locked with his pup's as he gets comfortable, stretching his arms languorously above his head.

Stiles knows he isn't allowed to move until Derek tells him to, a level of restraint that Derek tests now. The wolf folds his hands behind his head and just lets the time tick by while more and more viscous pre-come dribbles down his shaft to soak into his unwashed pubes. Stiles whines impatiently, desperate to do his job, but Derek doesn't relent for what seems like hours.

Until finally, when several minutes have gone by, he nods and says, "Start with my feet, bitch."

Stiles springs into action, crawling to the end of the bed and licking a long line up the bottom of Derek's right foot. Unable to use his hands—his _paws_ —he takes Derek's big toe in his mouth and sucks, the salty taste of old sweat bursting across his taste buds. He laves his tongue in slick circles around the toe until the bitter tang fades, then moves on to the next one.

"Mmm…there's a good bitch," Derek groans, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

Stiles basks in the praise. It makes him light up inside, and he needs that feeling so much that he knows he'd do just about anything Derek asked of him without complaint.

He licks down into the crevices between each of Derek's toes and cleans them assiduously before moving on to Derek's other foot to repeat the whole process. The fine hairs on the top tickle him as he noses at the spit-damp skin, causing him to huff short bursts of quiet laughter. Derek smiles down at him with a mixture of lust and fondness.

Once both of Derek's feet have been licked clean, Stiles progresses to Derek's calves and licks up the warm skin. While not his favourite, he still enjoys worshipping this part of his master's body and takes his time, making sure to run his tongue over every inch of Derek's hairy legs, legs that allow Derek to fuck him so hard and fast. The wolf had mounted him in front of a mirror once. Stiles was so entranced by the sight of Derek's thick thigh muscles as he was fucked with animalistic aggression that he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Unfortunately, there isn't much sweat to taste on Derek's legs, and he is keenly aware that the best part is coming up very soon. Already his eyes are fixed elsewhere, on the moist dark hairs of Derek's armpits. He can't wait to get his nose and tongue buried deep in them.

And Derek knows it.

With a smirk, Derek takes his left hand from behind his head and scratches his fingers through the sweaty hair of his right pit. "This is what you're really after, isn't it, pup?" he asks rhetorically, holding out his hand for Stiles to inspect. "You're always so desperate for my rank pits."

Stiles barks once and wraps his lips around Derek's fingers.

"Mmm…good boy," Derek praises, letting his pup suck on the thick digits. It's a small preview for what's to come, when he'll be shoving something far larger down Stiles' throat.

After a while, he slides his fingers from Stiles' mouth and wipes them on the sheets. "That's enough."

When he pats his chest, Stiles crawls around to Derek's side so that he can follow his master's instructions. Derek's chest is covered in a field of dark hair, his hard pink nipples the only things that peak through, and Stiles is powerless to resist their lure. He nuzzles against his master's right pectoral, chest hair ticking his cheek as he runs his tongue in lazy circles around Derek's nipple. Fingers tangle in his hair, giving him pause, but when nothing else happens he carries on, biting down gently on the raised nub. He hears Derek hiss through his teeth.

"Watch it, bitch!" Derek chides, spanking Stiles' ass.

Stiles yips playfully, loving the sting left by Derek's palm. He licks at the nipple to soothe it.

"That's better. Now do the other one."

Stiles obeys, switching to Derek's left nipple and suckling contentedly as Derek strokes down the side of his face.

It's such a tender moment that Derek lets his pup relax against him and just stares into his blissed-out eyes. The pressure in his bladder gets worse with each passing second, but he just can't bring himself to disturb his mate. He lets Stiles suckle for as long as he wants. "Yeah, you're my good boy, aren't you?" he whispers, caressing Stiles' cheekbone with his thumb. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard for being so good for me."

His pup stares up at him with such adoration that Derek's heart melts. He loves the filthy bitch so much, and while their sex life is oriented largely toward the rough and depraved, he treasures these sweet moments whenever they happen upon them.

Eventually, Stiles gets tired of suckling on Derek's nipple and shifts restlessly, releasing the red and abused nub from his mouth and nosing further up. Derek laughs, knowing exactly what his mate is after. "Alright, pup, you can have 'em," he says, returning both of his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.

Stiles wastes no time and pounces on Derek's left armpit. He is stilled again by pure euphoria. He buries his nose deep into the hairs of Derek's sweaty pit, moaning with pleasure as he inhales the musky scent. He could easily stay exactly like that for the rest of his life and die happy. He snuffles into Derek's damp armpit hair and draws a tuft into his mouth, sucking on the fine dark strands and delighting in the taste of his master's sweat.

When Derek cups a hand around the back of his neck, Stiles starts licking up Derek's pit in broad strokes, getting the hair even wetter with his spit. His intense fetish for Derek's body hair flares up as the hairs become darker, seem denser. He becomes ravenous, sucking every single drop of sweat he can from the alpha's armpit and savouring it.

"My dirty boy," Derek mumbles, his toes curling. "Love your tongue so fucking much."

Stiles hums in response and moves to Derek's other pit when the first is licked clean, no more sweat to devour. He attacks it more slowly, drawing it out. Even though he gets to give Derek a tongue bath nearly every day, he can never get enough. He was delighted when Derek got his job in construction, because he knew it would be labour-intensive and he'd be tasked with lots of sweaty armpit licking as a result. And even on his days off, Derek always works out, so Stiles is never forced to take a break.

Derek wears a lot of tank tops, too, Stiles thinks just to tease him. There's nothing worse than when they're out in public, like if they're grocery shopping, and Derek reaches for something on a high shelf. There have been several instances in which Stiles just couldn't control himself and ended up moaning loudly with his nose in Derek's armpit, even as people milled around them and looked at him askance. Derek spanked him ruthlessly when they got back home, turning his ass cherry-red. He couldn't sit down for days, but that didn't really do anything to deter him; he loves a good hard spanking.

Even when the last trace of sweat is gone, Stiles stays in Derek's armpit and just breathes. Derek knows exactly what Stiles is doing, and while the pressure in his bladder means he should urge his pup along, the happy noises Stiles is making give him temporary pause. He runs his fingers through Stiles' hair and lets him stay buried in his pit for a minute longer before pulling him out.

Stiles whines in protest, but Derek is steadfast.

"Ah, ah, ah! None of that, bitch," he warns, silencing his pup instantly. "Don't fret. You'll be able to clean my pits all over again tomorrow morning, remember, after my workout."

Stiles is sufficiently appeased and sits back on his heels when Derek gently pushes him away. The wolf turns over, gets onto his hands and knees, arches his back and aims his hairy, sweaty ass in Stiles' direction. "Okay, boy…clean me up."

Stiles bounds forward and hovers with his face close to the crack of his master's ass. The scent of the sweat Derek had accumulated through his workday has him moaning in approval. The whorl of hair that surrounds the alpha's dusky hole is dark and stuck together with sweat, so fucking beautiful that Stiles wants to take a picture of it, put it in a frame and hang it on the wall so that he can look at it whenever Derek is at work, maybe jack off to it.

He probably—definitely—would do just that if he weren't under strict orders never to come without express permission. Still, taking the photo itself sounds like a wonderful idea. Maybe he can talk Derek into buying a DSLR camera and they can have themselves a little photoshoot, create an album of all the depraved things that do together.

Nosing between Derek's hairy cheeks, Stiles swipes his tongue gently up the crack, his eyes closing in bliss as his tastebuds explode with more of the indescribable taste of his master's sweat. With the second sweep he stays clear of Derek's hole, wanting to save it, and sticks to cleaning those muscular globes that feature so often in his dreams.

Only when the fine hairs that cover Derek's ass cheeks are matted down with spit does Stiles focus on that tight little pucker. He runs his tongue around Derek's hole in small circles that have deep, rumbling groans pouring from the alpha's lips. He draws into his mouth the sweaty whorl of hair that had entranced him a few minutes ago and savours the taste of it, the feel of it between his lips. When he releases it, he seals his lips in an O around Derek's hole and probes it with the tip of his tongue until, when Derek works it like he's pushing out, he manages to slip inside.

Stiles licks greedily at Derek's inner walls and like always marvels at how fucking hot he is inside. He shoves his tongue in as deep as he can and wiggles it around, finding the musky taste of Derek's ass just as good as his sweat. The feel of the muscle clenching rhythmically around him is amazing, and he enjoys it as much as he can because he knows they'll be moving on soon.

Sure enough—and much to Stiles' disappointment—Derek pulls away a minute later. "It's time for your treat, pup," he says, getting up from the bed. He wraps a hand around his tumescent cock, the entirety of the shaft slick with pre-come and his pubes practically dripping with the stuff as even more leaks from the slit. He strokes his hand once along the length and then rakes his fingers through his unkempt pubes, a smirk twisting his lips when Stiles perks up. "Go get your water bowl from the bathroom."

Stiles clambers to the floor and does as Derek said. In front of the sink is his dog bowl, made of pastel-pink plastic with his name printed on the side in big black letters. He takes the rim of it between his teeth, brings it out into the bedroom and drops it at Derek's feet. His task completed, Stiles sits expectantly in front of the bowl and stares longingly up at Derek, doe eyes wide.

Derek grins and ruffles Stiles' hair. "Good boy. I had to drink a lot of coffee and water to get through today. You know what that means, don't you?"

Stiles does. It means Derek's bladder is so full that he'll fill his dog bowl to overflowing. His master is so good to him.

When Derek aims his cock at the bowl, Stiles practically pants with how turned on he is, staring with rapt attention as Derek pulls back his foreskin. With the fat purple head revealed, Derek slides his index finger over the pulsing slit right as another glob of sticky pre-come spurts out. He brings it to his pup's lips, his mouth curving in a cocky smirk when Stiles licks it off with fervour.

When his bitch is done, Derek wraps his hand once more around his cock and prepares to stop holding everything in. "Alright…here it comes," he warns.

A few seconds pass, and then a strong jet of yellowish urine spurts forth from Derek's cock. It hits its target with a violent splash, droplets of piss bouncing off the plastic and flying out in a circle to soak into the carpet. The sound of the bowl steadily being filled is like Stiles' favourite song, and the acrid smell that fills the air has his stomach growling with anticipation.

Quickly the water bowl starts to overflow and Derek clamps down around the base of his cock to stem the flow. "Come here, boy," he orders, hooking his finger around Stiles' collar and pulling him forward until soft lips wrap around the head of his cock. "Don't spill or you'll be punished and I won't be fucking you tonight. And wouldn't that be a terrible shame?"

Stiles whines his vehement agreement.

Once he's sure that Stiles' lips are wrapped around him good and tight, Derek loosens his hand and lets his bladder empty the rest of the way. Stiles' mouth is full of hot piss in three seconds flat, nearly choking him, and he has to swallow continuously in order to not disappoint his master.

The taste of Derek's piss is amazing, so salty and bitter and reminiscent in many ways of his sweat. Stiles loves drinking them both down, neither one more than the other. He looks up at Derek for approval as he drinks and is spurred on by the heat he sees in the wolf's eyes. Derek stares rapturously down at him as his stomach is flooded with warmth, and a large hand comes to wrap around the human's throat and squeeze ever so slightly. It cuts off some of Stiles' oxygen supply, making each breath more difficult to take in and expel through his nose and enhancing the whole experience with an element of danger.

His toes curl against the carpet.

"That's right, bitch, drink me down…" Derek sighs. With his hand he can feel every single time Stiles swallows his piss, and the proof that his pup is obeying him, coupled with the simple pleasure of emptying his bladder, has him tipping his head back and moaning.

Gradually, the stream tapers off and then stops completely, but Stiles stays with the tip of Derek's cock in his mouth, his greedy tongue lapping and probing at the slit to make sure he gets every single drop of his treat. As the taste of piss gives way again to pre-come, the hand around Stiles' neck gets tighter and he is forced off of his master's cock with a wet pop. His mouth hangs open and he stares forlornly up at his master's blood-red eyes, sad that this part of the evening is finished with.

"Don't pout, bitch," Derek admonishes. "There's still the piss in your bowl for you to lap up. And you didn't let a single drop spill, just like I said, so you have me fucking you to look forward to. "Now," he points to the dog bowl, "go ahead, pup."

Stiles bends down and begins drinking the rest of Derek's piss. The yellow liquid has already started to cool down, but it doesn't matter. It still tastes wonderful, and the fact that his only option is to lap it up with his tongue means it will take him a long time to drink it all.

While his pup is busy, Derek kneels down behind him and palms his pale ass. Stiles freezes for a moment but then continues drinking, so Derek parts those cheeks and skims his thumbs over the base of the black butt plug that has been buried in Stiles' pretty hole for almost twenty-four hours. The action startles a wet moan from his bitch, and Derek grins as he presses harder on the plug to push it even deeper, jostling it so that it brushes against Stiles' prostate.

When the boy whines with pleasure, Derek grabs the base of the plug and twists it as he pulls it slowly out. His pup's pink hole stretches around the widest part and then it comes out smoothly, still slick with last night's come. Tossing the plug aside, Derek shoves his thumbs inside Stiles' hole and pulls, opening it up so that he can see deep inside. Stiles' walls look especially pink because they haven't had a chance to recover from the pounding he'd given them last night, and Derek growls with animalistic satisfaction. It's as it should be.

Reaching beneath their bed, he looks for the box they store there which holds all of their vibrators. They've bought a lot of sex toys over the years, maybe hundreds—so many that they'd had to get box after box just to keep them all organised. There's a box for everything—lubes and massage oils; dildos; butt plugs; vibrators; cock rings and sounds; handcuffs and silk scarfs for tying each other up; enema kits; candles; edible underwear and other fetish clothing; and more besides.

Derek selects a flashy red vibrator that's about as long as his cock but not as thick. He uses some of the come that has dripped down Stiles' taint to slick it up and then shoves it in to the hilt without preamble. Stiles screams in pleasured shock, music to Derek's ears, the sound tapering off into moans as Derek lazily slides the vibrator in and out of the pup's sloppy, come-filled hole.

Stiles quickly grows accustomed to the feeling and finds a rhythm with his master. He pushes his ass back onto the vibrator every time Derek thrusts it forward and dips his head down to lap at his bowl of piss every time his ass is torturously emptied.

They move in sync for several minutes. Derek is mesmerised by how messy things get. His swollen alpha balls are always so full of come, and he'd shot so much up inside his mate's guts last night that there seems to be no end to it now. It slides down the vibrator to his wrist and even further down his arm to his elbow, where it drips onto the floor.

The slick sounds of Stiles' hole sucking on the vibrator like a mouth—like it's begging not to be left empty—are enchanting. Coupled with the sound of Stiles still lapping up his piss, it has Derek's cock throbbing between his legs, begging to replace the vibrator so he can flood Stiles' bowels with another load of thick, creamy jizz. Determinedly, Derek ignores his neglected cock and rams the vibrator home one last time before leaving it there and flipping the switch to turn it on.

It buzzes to life and has Stiles squealing with surprise.

"Keep drinking, pup," Derek orders, slowly twisting the vibrator in circles. "I'm not fucking you until every drop of my piss is gone from that bowl."

Stiles tries to comply, but the pleasure shooting up his spine makes it difficult to find the necessary coordination. He just ends up shoving his face deep in Derek's piss and inadvertently swallowing a great mouthful of it when he tries to fill his lungs with oxygen. Coughing and sputtering, he shuts his eyes tight when Derek twists the vibrator particularly hard, making his vision white out. Before he can stop it, his balls draw up and his cock spurts between his legs, spraying the carpet with come and causing Derek to freeze behind him.

As he returns to himself, Stiles realises what has just happened and feels terrible because he didn't have permission. He knows what will come next and is already resigned to it.

Derek rips the vibrator out of Stiles' hole and gets to his feet. "Bad bitch!" he chides, looking down at Stiles with such disappointment that Stiles wants to curl up and cry. He whimpers, the sound all the apology he can offer while in puppy mode, but it isn't enough to make up for his infraction and he knows it. So, when Derek walks away from him and enters their walk-in closet, Stiles waits patiently on the floor until he returns, his hole clenching around nothing.

When he reenters the bedroom, Derek drags with him the large breeding bench he'd built months ago. Made from scratch, the frame is constructed of sanded and polished wood, cushioned in all the right places with red padded fabric, and it has a gap in the frame through which Stiles' cock and balls will dangle, unable to get any stimulation. Down each of the legs is an unfastened strap, used for holding Stiles in place on nights when Derek wants _complete_ control. He'll fuck his pup over and over and over, until Stiles is a sobbing, whining mess, and then he'll fuck him again. The carpet beneath the bench usually ends up drenched in come when the sun rises.

"I thought we'd worked enough on your stamina to avoid you coming without permission, but I guess I was wrong," Derek says sadly. "Come over here, pup. Don't make me come get you."

Stiles falls over himself to comply. He drapes himself across the bench and holds still as Derek straps his arms and legs into place, tight enough for him to have no wiggle room but loose enough for the straps not to cut off his circulation. Then, with nothing to do but lie there, rest his cheek on the padding and stare at the wall until Derek proceeds with whatever he has planned, Stiles waits.

Derek kneels down next to Stiles and runs a hand up the curve of his spine. "You know what the consequences are for disobeying me," he whispers in Stiles' ear, eliciting a full-body shudder. "I don't want this to ruin our evening, so after it's over we'll carry on as we were. But if you misbehave again, I'll be forced to cage your cock and I won't fuck you or let you come again for a whole week. Understood?"

He waits for Stiles' pitiful bark of acknowledgement before moving around so that he's positioned behind his pup. "Good. Now, how many do you think you deserve?" he muses teasingly, his fingers dancing over the mole-dotted globes of Stiles' ass. "I'm thinking twenty, ten on each cheek, and I want you to bark after each one. Fail, and we'll be starting over again from the beginning. Does that sound reasonable to you?"

Another bark.

"Good."

Not wanting to waste any more of their playtime, Derek brings his hand down hard on the left side of Stiles' ass. The pale cheek ripples and Stiles jolts on the bench as the faint red impression of a handprint appears, a mere shadow of what is to come. "Keep count," Derek reminds Stiles when the pup doesn't make a noise other than his heavy breathing.

A breathless bark.

"Better."

Derek spanks Stiles again, even harder this time, and grips his hip tightly when he sees Stiles trying to rut against the air.

Another bark.

Derek keeps spanking Stiles until his ass is burning, livid red handprints decorating pale flesh. He's honestly impressed with how well his pup keeps up, barking out once after each spank even when they near the end and the barks are hiccuped out between sobs, tears running down his scrunched-up face. Derek doesn't worry, though, because when he bends down he can still see Stiles' cock sticking out through the hole in the bench, rock-hard and leaking all over again.

When the twentieth spank has been administered and the twentieth bark released, Derek changes from tough disciplinarian to caretaker in a split second and runs his hands gently over Stiles' flaming ass in an effort to soothe it. "There we go, pup, all done," he murmurs affectionately, leaning down to kiss those red cheeks. "You did so well. You made me very happy, accepting your punishment like that."

Stiles whines as Derek's lips trail across his burning ass. He knows he won't be sitting down for at least a couple of days and looks forward to it, to Derek smirking at him knowingly every time he tries to. He shudders and pushes back when Derek's tongue dips briefly into his sloppy, come-filled hole, but it retreats before it can really penetrate him.

"I have an idea, my pet," Derek says huskily. He leaves Stiles tied to the bench while he pulls one of the boxes out from under the bed, the largest one. It contains a special attachment for the breeding bench that he'd paid a lot for, and from the way Stiles tenses up as he returns, he guesses that his pup already knows what his idea is.

"Yeah, you know what's gonna happen now, don't you, bitch?" Derek asks rhetorically.

He opens the box and pulls out their fucking machine, a basic model that came with several dildos of varying sizes. Derek has used it on Stiles several times already, tying him to the bench and letting the machine fuck him methodically for hours on end while he goes and does something else, like the dishes. The sound of his pup's plaintive cries kept him hard the entire time, and by the time he took pity on his poor mate, Stiles was a mess of come, sweat and tears and his ass was so loose and sloppy that Derek's knot went in with almost no resistance.

After setting up the machine, Derek guides the tip of the largest dildo to Stiles' loose hole and pushes the head in with a satisfying pop. Then he just leaves it there, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as Stiles' stretched rim twitches around the silicone. "Now that's a beautiful sight," he says reverently, stroking himself.

Stiles, aching to be filled, tries to push back and whines sadly when he is unable to.

"Don't you worry, pup, I've got ya," Derek says.

He switches on the fucking machine, starting it out slow so that he can see every single inch of the dildo being sucked into Stiles' greedy ass. He kneels there for a few minutes and keeps stroking his neglected cock, keeping pace with the machine and imagining that it's him sinking into Stiles' wet heat.

All too soon he feels his orgasm approaching, so he regretfully lets go of his cock and stands. He collects Stiles' water bowl from where he'd left it on the carpet and carries it and the remote for the fucking machine to the front of the bench.

Sitting down cross-legged in front of Stiles, Derek coos sweetly when he sees the unadulterated pleasure in his pet's expression, his eyes half-mast and his mouth gaping open to allow little panted "ah-ah-ah" sounds to escape with every syrupy thrust of the machine.

"You still thirsty, bitch?" he asks, smirking when he sees awareness start to come back into Stiles' eyes, his nose twitching as the aroma of Derek's piss fills his nostrils. "I'll take that as a yes. Let's see if we can remedy that, shall we?"

Stiles lifts his head and allows the dog bowl to be slid beneath it. When he lowers it again and laps at the pool of cooled piss that still remains, he moans.

"There you go, pup. S'that taste good?" Derek asks with a smirk.

All Stiles can do is moan again, his eyes slipping shut in bliss.

"Yeah, I bet it does."

It goes on for an indeterminate amount of time. Stiles keeps drinking up Derek's piss as he is fucked slowly by the machine. Knowing that his master is watching him keenly, he flutters his eyes open to see that Derek's are red, his pupils blown, and it's only that fact that Stiles' mouth is otherwise occupied that keeps him from smirking.

Derek isn't so amused. "I think you're entirely too coherent, pet," he growls.

He fingers the remote for the fucking machine and, turning the dial up several notches, grins savagely when Stiles' eyes roll back in his head and a muffled groan slips out of his wet lips. The thick dildo in his ass fucks into him with brutal speed and hits his prostate on every other thrust.

"Mmm, I think that's better, don't you?" Derek says.

Stiles keeps trying to lap up his master's piss, but it's difficult with how hard he is being fucked. He gets piss all over his face, his neck straining with the effort it takes to keep from accidentally drowning himself. After a minute of watching raptly, Derek takes pity on him and holds his head up for him, allowing him to drink without as much trouble.

"Not much left," Derek observes, seeing only about a centimetre of piss left in the bowl. He hums sympathetically when Stiles looks up at him mournfully, his whine of disappointment muffled by the liquid against his lips. "I know…but there'll be more tomorrow, okay?"

Mollified, Stiles slips back into insensibility, losing himself to the strong aftertaste in his mouth and the feeling of the dildo still fucking into his sloppy ass.

"I think my bitch is in heat, huh?" Derek comments when the last of the piss is gone. He sets the empty bowl on the floor and runs his hand down Stiles' arched back. "The machine's just not enough for you, is it?"

Getting up to his knees, Derek moves until his rigid cock is right in front of his pet's face. He wraps his fingers around it and strokes himself slowly, using his own pre-come to slick himself again until the shaft is nice and shiny. "I know that this is what you really want. Nothing fills you quite like my cock, huh? Nothing else can measure up. No dildo, no plug…not even my fist can do to you what my cock can."

Stroking himself harder, Derek gives voice to what only his eyes can see. "Just imagine it, pet—my massive cock stretching you wide as I pound you into oblivion, hitting that special spot inside you until you can come from that alone if I allowed it. But I won't. I'll keep fucking you until I knot your greedy little pussy and shoot my seed far up inside your guts. I'm gonna breed you up with my pups, y'know, over and over again until it takes…and then maybe I'll let you come again."

Stiles stares at the huge cock in front of him with hooded eyes the entire time Derek talks. He doesn't really hear the words, but he's heard enough of Derek's dirty talk in the past to be able to guess just what his master is saying to him. He moans.

"Yeah, you want that, don't you? Soon, pet." Derek smirks. "But first…"

Threading his fingers through Stiles' hair, Derek manoeuvres him until his mouth is in the right position. Then, without warning, he snaps his hips forward and pops his cock right past Stiles' parted lips, making him gag on it. His pup's throat convulses deliciously around him, making his toes curl until Stiles relaxes into it.

Once the boy stops choking, Derek thrusts shallowly into the tight space with a long noise of pleasure, the head of his cock staying right at the back of Stiles' throat. Saliva gets everywhere, dripping down Stiles' chin and soaking into the breeding bench, but neither of them cares.

Stiles, for his part, is too busy riding the amazing sensations being stuffed full at both ends never fails to give him. His nose is buried in the untamed curls at the base of Derek's cock, filling his nostrils with the musky unwashed smell of his alpha, making his eyes roll back in his head. The scents of old sweat, come and piss are mixed together in the dense thatch of hair to form something so indescribably masculine that Stiles doesn't protest when Derek stays buried in the back of his throat, not even when he starts to run out of air and his vision blurs around the edges.

Honestly, he thinks he could literally choke to death on Derek's cock, his nose deep in Derek's pubes, and he'd die happy.

"I'm close, bitch," Derek bites out, beginning to thrust. "You want my come?"

At Stiles' choked sound, which clearly means 'yes', Derek smiles wickedly and keeps fucking his mouth, spit and pre-come flying everywhere. When he feels his orgasm about to crest, instead of withdrawing and shooting onto Stiles' face and tongue, he pushes forward until he is buried to the hilt and sprays his thick seed right down his pup's throat. He feels it convulse around him as Stiles struggles to swallow it all, his body still being jostled about by the fucking machine. With watery eyes he stares up at Derek like he has been betrayed.

When Derek comes down from his high, he chuckles. "Something wrong, bitch?"

Stiles can do nothing but resignedly look away, his mouth and throat still full of his master's cock.

"Oh well. You'll survive," Derek says dismissively. He pulls out of Stiles' mouth and rubs his cock against the pup's face, wiping off saliva and traces of come. "Now...since you've been so good for me since your spanking, I think it's time I took what's mine, don't you?"

He walks around to the fucking machine, switches it off and withdraws the dildo from Stiles' sloppy hole, eliciting a quiet whimper from him. Derek grins at the sight of his bitch's hole and shoves the machine aside so that he can kneel behind his mate and get the full view.

It's beautiful, Stiles' cheeks still red from his spanking and his hole opening so wide when Derek inserts both of his thumbs and pulls them apart like he did after he took the butt plug out earlier. It's still filled with most of last night's thick load—not even the brutal fucking of the machine was enough to squeeze it all out—and the channel is even pinker.

Derek knows Stiles won't recover from this for days. "Look at you..." he whispers reverently. "Never seen something more gorgeous."

His cock, which had started to go soft after his recent orgasm, quickly regains its hardness and throbs with anticipation—God bless werewolf refractory periods. Derek stokes it once and guides the head to rest against Stiles' gaping orifice, applying just enough pressure that it begins to slip inside but doesn't quite make it. He keeps himself positioned there and doesn't move until Stiles whines and clenches down on him like he is trying to suck him in.

Who is Derek to deny such an obvious request?

Draping himself over Stiles' back, he snaps his hips forward and with an obscene wet squelch he sheaths himself completely in his mate's heat. Stiles throws his head back and screams from being filled again. It's a sound of pleasure and not pain, so Derek doesn't wait and starts thrusting immediately, all of his pent-up need not at all mitigated by his first orgasm. The need won't go away until he is locked tight to his mate.

"Gonna fill you up," he growls, biting into the back of Stiles' neck. "Make it so you're never not full of me…"

Stiles doesn't have any complaints. Strapped down as he is, he can't meet each of Derek's thrusts, but he releases a multitude of encouraging noises to make sure his master keeps fucking him so perfectly. The dildo was good, but nothing compares to having Derek's cock inside of him, warm and throbbing and alive.

His own erection aches where it dangles through the hole in the breeding bench, dripping onto the floor. He wants release so badly, but he knows he has to be patient—especially since he came without permission earlier. Derek is apparently a mind reader, because in the next second Stiles feels one of the alpha's large hands touching him, thick fingers ghosting up his length.

"You wanna come, bitch?" he asks huskily, breathes the question right into Stiles' ear.

Stiles whimpers pitifully.

"Yeah, I bet you do. Can't even see your cock and I can tell how red and neglected-looking it must be."

Fruitlessly Stiles tries to buck his hips forward to increase the pressure of Derek's hand, but the bench is too sturdy for him to move at all, especially with 200 pounds of muscle on top of him. His efforts don't go unnoticed. Derek chuckles in his ear and takes his hand away, making Stiles whimper again.

"Soon, bitch," the alpha promises. "Soon."

Derek lifts himself from Stiles' back and tightly grips his pup's hips. He watches himself sink into his pup's hole, his cock and pubes now slathered in yesterday's come. The sight has a familiar tingling sensation beginning at the base of his erection. "Yeah, it's gonna be soon," he reiterates, his voice gravelly, fresh sweat appearing on his tanned, hirsute skin with the effort it takes to fuck his mate with ceaseless aggression.

Sure enough, a moment later his knot forms and tugs on Stiles' hole. Derek sinks in one last time, hunches over his bitch and groans as they tie. He shoots his seed deep inside, replenishing what he and the machine have fucked out over the course of the evening. He stays atop his mate for a long time, panting into the middle of Stiles' shoulder blades as he experiences his long orgasm. It's only when his knot starts to go down and he feels Stiles squirming beneath him that he remembers his promise. He fumbles beneath the bench to grip his pup's cock and give it a few tugs. "Come."

That's all it takes for Stiles to achieve his second orgasm, coating Derek's hand in semen.

"There you go…" the older man murmurs, tired now. He raises his hand blindly to Stiles' lips and allows his pup to clean up his own mess.

When Derek's knot has shrunk enough for him to leave his mate's body a few minutes later, he recalls Stiles' face when he came down his throat and decides to take pity on him. He seals his lips in an O around Stiles' hole and sucks, filling his mouth with his own come without swallowing any of it. That done, he shuffles back around to the front of the bench, gently turns Stiles' head and gets him to open his mouth with one of his fingers.

Opening his own partway, Derek lets his come drip down onto Stiles' tongue and fights off a smile when the bitch moans and devours it. When about half of his mouthful is gone, Derek tangles his fingers in Stiles' hair, pulls his head up and slams their lips together. Using his tongue he pushes his come into Stiles' mouth and kisses him, swirling the viscous fluid between them.

After a while, Derek licks the rest of his own come into Stiles' mouth and backs away. "There you go…" he murmurs, stroking his bitch's forehead. "That taste good?"

Stiles just hums.

When the human swallows for a final time, Derek retrieves the butt plug he had tossed aside earlier and pushes it back in its home, stopping any more of his come from leaking out of Stiles' ass. That done, he undoes the restraints from around Stiles' ankles and wrists and helps him sit up. "C'mon, let's get cleaned up so we can get some sleep."

Derek lifts a pliant Stiles up into his arms and carries him into the bathroom. He sits him on the closed toilet lid and unfastens the collar from around his mate's neck, signifying the end of their scene. He lays it on the edge of the sink and, once he has made sure that Stiles will be alright left on his own for a moment, he walks over to the shower and switches it on to the right temperature. He holds his hand beneath the spray to double-check and then helps Stiles stand and enter the stall, which is more than large enough for both of them to fit inside it at the same time.

Derek's touches are full of affection as he washes Stiles. He loves this part, the aftermath of a scene. Outside of the bedroom, Stiles likes to be independent, insists on doing everything by himself if he can avoid relying on others for help, even Derek. But at times like this, after they have completed a scene, Derek gets to care for his mate in every way, to have Stiles be completely dependent on him. It's a sign of the utmost trust Stiles has for him, and Derek treasures it every time.

He rubs shower gel all over Stiles' body—along and under his arms, down his front and back. He takes great care in cleaning around Stiles' tender ass, his cheeks still a livid and sore-looking red from his earlier spanking. When Stiles' genitals, legs and feet are washed and the lather has eddied down the drain, he moves on to Stiles' hair.

"Tip your head back," Derek requests, squirting a dollop of shampoo onto his palm. He works it into Stiles' hair once the boy has done as he asked and then cups one of his hands above Stiles' brow while he washes the shampoo out again. After repeating the process with conditioner, he helps Stiles out of the stall, wraps him in a fluffy towel and sits him again on the toilet while he reenters the shower and makes quick work of washing himself as well.

A couple of minutes later, Derek has dried both of them off and leads his mate back out into the bedroom. He pulls back the bedsheets and assists a worn-out Stiles in lying down atop the mattress. The younger man's eyes are already drooping as Derek switches off the overhead light and gets in the other side of the bed. He pulls the sheets over them and pulls Stiles into his arms, back against his front. "So…" Derek says, his breath ruffling the short hairs on the back of Stiles' neck. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Duh," Stiles whispers, wiggling even further into Derek's embrace. "I always do."

"Good," Derek smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I certainly don't know what possessed me to write this...but I regret nothing! To be honest, this has been sitting unfinished in my Documents folder since the beginning of 2017, but I only got around to finishing it very recently, after I began writing the first of the PWPs in this naughty little series. It was basically just a stream of consciousness without any real thought put into it at all, and as such it turned into a melting pot of various kinks of mine. I hope you guys enjoyed it if you were brave enough to read all 8,500 words of filth. Let me know. *laughs nervously*
> 
> If anyone has suggestions for other PWPs you'd like to see from me in the future, feel free to leave them in a comment down below and, as long as they don't feature something I don't like, I'll try to make them happen. _All_ suggestions are welcome, as long as they're Sterek M/M. ;)
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. I've got some good stuff planned. And feel free to check out my past fics if you haven't already. They're good, too.**


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